“Great,” she said, also with a bit more verve than was actually called for. “I’ll look forward to seeing you.” Tamara cut the connection and leaned back in her chair, putting her face in her hands and groaning loudly. “Yeah, Tamara. That was great. Just… great…”
It seemed better, less awkward with the wolves on board the ship. They were fierce predators, but Tamara managed to find solace, comfort from them somehow. They were her guards, she was their primary, but somehow, strangely, it seemed as though they’d accepted her into their group. She wasn’t arrogant enough to think that she was their alpha; Viktoriya Arsenyev Eristov was certainly that. They had their ways of doing things and there were certain decisions that they would not budge from, but those related to her security. Tamara was free to go about her business… until she tried to do something that contradicted the wolves’ security mandates. But still, Tamara had this sense of belonging.
And it helped her shed that cloud of embarrassment and awkward feelings she’d had since the call with Frederick. Sure, he was a nice guy and a friend, but up until he’d made that off-hand comment, she’d never had any inkling that he might be interested in her. And, Tamara was forced to admit, the strange surge of emotions she’d had at that comment. It wasn’t that she was attracted to him in any romantic fashion, she wasn’t, but up until now no one had even gotten the slightest reaction like this out of her. Of course, given her position as Chief of Operations of the biggest corporation in the star system, Tamara was often depicted as cold, calculating and unapproachable. Some of the more salacious tabloid reporters liked to try and catch glimpses of her, speculate on who she might be dating. There wasn’t anyone, so they tried to insinuate. It never went anywhere, but the COO, a woman, of the biggest company in town? She would never not be news.
Viktoriya was piloting the ship, bringing it in close to where Redcap Madness was connected with one of the enormous He3 tanks. The ship had extended hoses to the tank, and a quick status update from the tank indicated that fuel was definitely being transferred to the freighter. It would take hours to refill the freighter’s fuel bunkers, which worked out fine by Tamara’s reckoning; it would give her and Frederick time to catch up.
After going through the handshake protocols and docking procedures, Moxie-2 pulled up alongside Redcap Madness and docked, mating their airlocks together with an extendable tube. Ekaterina swam through the tube first, landing lightly on the freighter’s deckplates just inside the airlock. The airlock hatch opened and she stepped through. “Permission to come aboard?” she growled, her ears and nose going into search mode. The crewman inside leapt backward, frightened by the hunter that just stepped through the hatch. “Relax, kid,” she said, smiling a toothy grin. “I’m not going to eat you.”
The crewman, a young human male, was pushed as far against the bulkhead as he could be, utter panic on his face. He was blubbering to himself, repeating some gibberish over and over, but otherwise seemed unable to speak.
“Someone get over here!” Ekaterina bellowed. “One of your crewmen is about to have a heart attack. And I promise I didn’t threaten or touch him!” There came the pounding of feet on the metallic deckplates as five people came into the cargo airlock area, makeshift weapons and accusatory looks on their faces.
Tamara landed on the deck in the airlock and stepped through. She saw the crewmen, shouting at her bodyguard and her bodyguard falling into a fighting crouch and looked around in puzzlement. “What the hell happened?” she demanded of the lupusan, over the din. She pulled up her HUD and focused on her guard, stepping to the side so she could scan her from profile.
“Nothing actually happened, ma’am,” Ekaterina said in a normal tone. Tamara’s implants easily picked out the guard’s speech from the cacophony of voices in the airlock area. “I stepped out, asked permission to come aboard and then this one,” she pointed with one clawed digit to the young man who one of the other crewmen was attempting to peel off the bulkhead, but he had a death grip on one of the metal trusses, “Freaked. Then he backed himself up against the bulkhead and I called out for the cavalry. Unfortunately, the cavalry doesn’t believe that I didn’t hurt him.”
Tamara pulled out her communicator, flipped it open and entered a code. “Frederick, yeah, it’s Tamara. Get down to the airlock, please. You’re about to have a riot and I don’t want any of your crew to be hurt.”
“I hear it,” he replied. “I’m on my way.” Less than a second later, the captain stepped into the airlock area. “Knock it off!” he bellowed and all of them went silent. Hostile looks were still being sent in the direction of the lupusan guard, who seemed to be taking it all in stride, though she was down in a crouch, ready to fight. Her hands were well away from her weapons, though she didn’t need them. “Now, what is going on?”
“She attacked Perry!” one of the cargo handlers yelled, pointing accusingly at Ekaterina.
“Really, Maya?” Frederick asked, sounding tired. “Because I think if that was the case, he’d be dead right now. What do you think, Zhahal?” he turned to his engineer, one eyebrow raised.
The lupusan engineer for the cargo vessel snarled, looking away from the guard over to the captain. Then some of the vinegar seemed to drain out of her. “No, you’re right, Captain. Guys, back off. If the guard here actually did anything to try and hurt Perry, he wouldn’t just be backed up against the bulkhead.”
“Thank you, Zhahal. Leave it with me, people. Back to your business,” Frederick ordered. When no one moved, he yelled, “Now!” All but the lupusan jumped and then quickly left, but Zhahal went over to the young man who was up against the bulkhead.
“Come on, Perry,” she said, gently, taking him by the arm. “It’s me. Let’s go. She didn’t hurt you, come on.” After a moment, the panicked engineer’s mate relaxed enough to allow the lupusan to lead him away.
Frederick scowled as they walked off. “Well, kids these days, huh? I don’t know what happened. His direct boss is a lupusan, I don’t get why he freaked.”
Ekaterina straightened up, and the aura of the compartment felt different as she relaxed. The guard was no longer in battle mode and somehow, both humans in there could feel it. The predator was no longer ready to attack and the little mice in the room felt somehow safer. “Zhahal is an engineer,” the guard replied. “She can be a hunter if she chooses, but my guess is she hasn’t chosen to in quite some time.”
“Whereas my guards were specifically chosen because of their… menacing auras,” Tamara said in explanation. Ekaterina grinned.
“You’re the boss,” she said simply.
“Well,” Tamara said, turning back to the captain. “I’m sorry my arrival caused such a fuss.”
“You love to make an entrance, Tamara,” he said with a smile. He stepped over, arms outstretched and the two embraced briefly. “But it’s good to see you again. But I really have to ask that you not frighten my crew to death. Please?”
She shrugged. “I am sorry, Frederick. I said that already.”
He nodded, stepping back. “Yes, you did. All right, enough chit chat. I want to see this den of inequity you have over there,” he said, grinning and rubbing his hands mischievously.
Tamara laughed and led him through the docking tube.
~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~
“So I’m sitting standing there, while the customs guy is screaming at Taja and me and suddenly one of his buddies comes over telling him that the crate of superseal foam that we’re bringing in has ruptured,” Frederick said, gesturing with his nearly-empty glass, grinning. “So he stomps off and we follow, of course, because it’s still considered my cargo. I’ve sold it, but the buyers hadn’t arrived yet to pick it up.”
Tamara took another sip of her drink, chuckling. “Oh, no.”
He nodded. “Yeah, so we get over there and three of the customs people are covered with the superseal foam and are stuck to the deck. In fact, there’s a mass of the foam that’s covered three square meters and the three of them are stuck
in it up to their necks. They’re screaming, the customs guy is screaming at them, Taja’s screaming at all of them…”
Tamara choked off her laughter, long enough to ask, “And who were you screaming at?”
“I wasn’t screaming at anyone,” he said calmly. “I was on the comms with the buyers telling them that customs was going to want to speak with them about a load of busted superseal foam.”
Tamara roared with laughter, throwing her head back and slapping her palm against the wooden table. “That is just precious. And perfect!”
“Oh, the buyers were pissed off about the customs guy busting open the load, the customs guys took over two hours to get enough solvent to free their people from what had become a rock hard chunk of orange sealant, so they were pissed off. But, the money was already in my account, so the only thing I cared about was getting them out of my cargo bay.” He threw back the rest of his drink, wincing slightly. “That is some very good stuff, Tamara.”
She wiped at her streaming eyes, continuing to chuckle. “Ha, yes it is, Frederick. Which is why I bought it. And I haven’t had an excuse to crack it open. So I’m glad an old friend happened to show up and was agreeable to come over.”
“Get drunk on someone else’s tab?” he asked, grinning. He swept his arm to encompass the living quarters. “Hanging out in an awesome place like this? I’m glad I don’t have this thing on my ship. I’d never get any work done. All I’d want to do is lie on the couch and watch vids.”
“Men,” she snorted. Setting her glass back on the table, she grabbed the bottle and poured herself another two fingers of the fiery liquid. “You find the least bit of comfort and all of a sudden your sense of responsibility goes out the airlock.”
“Hey, hey, easy, Commander Samair,” he said, holding up his hands in surrender. “And I did say I was glad, didn’t I?”
“Yes, you did,” she said, pompously. She patted the table. “Which only proves that you, sir, cannot be trusted to handle any kind of serious prosperity.” Tamara blinked a couple of times and they both laughed. “I think I’m a little drunker than I expected.” She drained her glass and looked over to the bottle. “Hey, where did all the scotch go?”
“Not sure,” Frederick replied, visibly swaying a bit, chuckling. He grabbed the bottle off the table and filled up his own glass, and then threw it back, leaving nothing in the bottle. “I think it disappeared.”
They laughed, arguing lightly about the state of the level of alcohol in the bottle, and then the conversation turned back to cargo running. All the while, they were watched over by the two female lupusan, who were seated in the cockpit area of the ship. Ekaterina was dozing lightly in the copilot seat while Viktoriya was at the controls. She was flying the modified cargo ship in a lazy arc around the system, not straying more than twenty or thirty light seconds from the yard complex. Her primary’s little catch up session with her friend the freighter captain wasn’t expected to last more than a few hours, by the look of things, due to her linkup with the ship’s internal cameras through her new implants. She had physically adapted and the time she’d needed for healing was done, and now she was still getting to understand the new technology, but so far, she loved all of the features and the ability to access the computers on the ship. “Where were these implants two years ago when we were working in the Voluun District?”
“They were aboard that Republic destroyer,” Ekaterina murmured, not opening her eyes. “And I can’t wait to get a set of my own.”
“You don’t really need the sensory upgrades,” Viktoriya admitted. “I’ve never seen anyone with a better sniffer or ears than you.”
“Thanks, Boss,” the other wolf said, adjusting slightly on the seat, which conformed to her movement. “But even if the upgrades can’t do much better, the ability to access the computer systems and databases like you and Samair do would be a big help.” She flicked her ears without opening her eyes. “And the record function can also help.”
“Yes, it does,” Viktoriya agreed. “And now that our primary has started getting those and the doctor clearly can do the surgery to install them, I’m thinking FP, Inc is going to be marketing a new product. Once the company kids start getting the upgrades.”
“Damn it, you woke me up,” Ekaterina complained. She elbowed her way up in to a more up upright position in the seat. “All right, I’m interested. Who do you think will be getting the implant upgrades?”
“Well, they can’t be cheap,” Viktoriya said. She pressed a few controls. “Coming up to waypoint twenty-two. Adjusting course.”
“Do you really have to say that every time we come up to one of those things?” Ekaterina asked, running one black-furred shoulder.
Viktoriya grinned, never taking her eyes off the displays. She leaned forward and pressed another control. “No, I don’t, actually. But that face you make when you get annoyed amuses me.” The other female grunted, displaying that annoyance. “But I think that certainly the senior personnel will be getting them, Captain Eamonn, for sure, Moreetz over at the Kutok mine, Chief Nymeria, Captain Leicasitaj on the Mondragon, and the list goes on. I think she’ll probably do some sort of contract extension for anyone who gets them, in fact,” she said, hesitating, as a new file popped up. “Ha. It seems the good Chief of Operations was thinking in precisely that manner.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. She’s going to hook anyone in the company who wants them up with implants, but will increase their service contract to ten years. Gotta subsidize them somehow, I guess,” Viktoriya said with a shrug.
Ekaterina nodded, flicking her ears. “Makes sense. I just hope for her sake that the powers involved figure out how to get that thing off her neck. I’d hate for her to be giving everyone these wonderful new toys and she doesn’t get to participate.”
“Yeah, well, she’s been working on the modifications, and from what she’s posted on the ship’s datanet, I think she’s close.”
Ekaterina turned and gave her serzhant a look. “You know how weird you sound when you say things like that, don’t you Viktoriya?” She shook her head, giving a little yip. “You’re starting to sound like Samair.”
Viktoriya looked over at her fellow guard. “We’ve been through a lot, Ekaterina. But just remember this: when you get neuro implants, you’ll start to talk in the same manner. You won’t even be able to recognize yourself.”
“Don’t even joke about that,” Ekaterina said with a shudder.
“You won’t,” Viktoriya replied, smiling. “You’ll be speaking in tech-talk and talking about cost ratios, and information on the datanet.”
“Stop!” Ekaterina begged, throwing up her hands. “No more!”
“And spreadsheets and balance sheets and diagnostic programs…”
“All right,” Frederick said, sprawled on one of the large, plush couches. “I think I should be getting to bed. I’m… I’m a bit more drunk than I’ve been.” He laughed weakly. “I- I mean. I’m more drunk than I expected. How long until we get back to my ship?” he slurred.
Tamara blinked rapidly. She pulled up her HUD, which was perfectly clear, though seeing Frederick on the couch was still a bit… fuzzy. She’d have to look into adjusting her implants later. Clearly there was some feedback being sent to her eyes through her optical implants. The appropriate macro popped up and she could see that according to Viktoriya’s flight path, and the timer she’d set up, they should be back at the Redcap Madness in twenty minutes.
“Twenty minutes or so,” she said aloud. “And then we’ll be back at your ship.”
“Yeah. Thanks. I like your couch here, but I think it would be better if I threw up in my own refresher.”
She grimaced. “Please do not throw up on my couch.”
“I’ll be fine. It’s not really hitting me that hard,” he admitted. Tamara swept over him with her optic sensors and determined that he was fairly intoxicated, but he wasn’t too far gone. There was no sign of any nausea, but it was probably best for all c
oncerned that they’d finished the bottle and that they weren’t going looking for more. He looked over at her. “This was fun, Tamara. A little more booze than I expected, but it was fun.”
She laughed. “It was. We need to do this again at some point. I don’t get together with my friends often enough. Hell, most of my friends either work for me now, or they’re off on Grania Estelle. Most of the time I’m in meetings or working in my office. Hell, I think Nasir is a better friend than most of the organics I know.”
“You know what you need?” he asked, still slurring a bit.
She laughed. “What do I need?”
“You… you need to get out more!”
“What?” she spluttered. “I’m the big… person in charge of the big company in Seylonique, Freddy. I don’t have time to go out and get out!”
He waved a hand. “Psssh! That’s an… excuse. You were still the big person in charge when you dropped everything to spend a few hours with me, floating around the system. You could take time, but you’d rather be hidden away in the ship here, or the ship there.” He giggled. “You are much too serious.”
“And what about you?” she demanded, trying to sit up straighter in the plush chair. Why was it so difficult? Damn these implants. They were messing up her equilibrium, obviously. “You don’t screw with your crews. So who does that leave for you?”
“Don’t you go worrying about me, girlie.”
“Girlie!” Tamara spat, still struggling with the recalcitrant chair. “Don’t you call me that, you infant! I’m two hundred and forty years older than you!”
“You crone!” he said with gusto, throwing some pretzels at her across the compartment.
“You are a dead man, Frederick Vosteros!” Tamara declared, vaulting out of the chair. She then discovered that clearly the grav plates had been messed with and she crashed to the deck. Swearing a blue streak, she tried to pick herself up off the carpet but it was amazingly difficult for her to push herself to a seated position. Frederick pointed at her and laughed, throwing another pretzel at her, which bounced off her leg. “Oh, that’s it, you asshole. There’s going to be a beating aboard my ship!” She was laughing too hard now, as another pretzel bounced off the crown of her head and got tangled in her hair.
First Principles: Samair in Argos: Book 3 Page 42